


I'll Take The Rain

by respoftw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, One sided Carson/Rodney, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 10:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11599209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: Carson knew every inch of Rodney's skin.





	I'll Take The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> BINGO!
> 
> Title taken from REMs 'I'll Take The Rain' which I pretty much played on repeat for three days last week.

First, do no harm.

Carson scoffed quietly at the oath he had based his life around. If only others took it as seriously as he did, then it might mean something. Shaking his head, he poured himself two fingers of Talisker and let the heat of the whisky warm its way down his gullet. He shivered as the first drops warmed his belly and paused, screwing the cap tight on the bottle and locking it back in his desk drawer.

One drink was all he ever allowed himself.

Sometimes, especially on nights like these, the temptation to finish the bottle was so strong he could already feel it, the numbness of it.

No.

That wouldnae do. It wouldn't be…seemly.

One drink. Then he would be ready to face them.

The thing was, Carson knew every inch of Rodney's skin. Sometimes he thought it would be easier if he didn't, even if he couldn't ever bring himself to wish that it was. He knew every scar on Rodney's pale skin, from the oldest - a tiny crescent moon of a burn mark on the inside of his left index finger, to the one that hadn't had a chance to form yet - a long jagged tear down the calf of Rodney's right leg. There hadn't been any muscle damage (this time) but Carson knew that Rodney would carry the scar of this latest mission on his skin for the rest of his life.

Another one to join the many that Rodney now sported.

Too many.

Carson's knowledge of Rodney's skin was cold and clinical. He knew it by sight, knew what it felt like to push a needle into it, had sewn it back together and even cut it open once or twice. He didn't know how it tasted, how it felt under his lips…Carson pushed the glass away, half a finger of amber liquid still sloshing in it.

He'd had quite enough for one night if that was where his mind was wandering to.

In pushing the glass away, his eyes strayed to the photo cube on his desk, the one he used as a paperweight, never mind that paper was a rare commodity on Atlantis.

His Mum - God, he missed his Mum - smiled at him from the side facing him and he knew that her smiling face could be found on the three other sides. The top was taken up by him and his brothers; the five of them mugging for the camera in some Paisley pub, their cheeks red with lager and the joy that came from watching England get beat at football.

He picked the cube up and turned it over so he could see the photograph on the bottom. He was always careful to leave that side of the cube facing down on his desk, something to turn over and look at on nights like these, when Rodney was under his care and so very vulnerable that it made Carson's heart ache.

The photograph had been taken in Antarctica. Rodney, in his ridiculous orange fleece, with his arm wrapped around Carson's shoulder. Elizabeth had taken it, he remembers. My CSO and CMO together, she had smiled. For posterity. They had both been so happy then. Atlantis was within their grasp and they were ready to set out for the unknown.

Carson loves that photograph, remembers how it felt to have the weight of Rodney's arm resting on his shoulder.

He laughs abruptly and tosses back the remainder of his drink.

Pathetic.

He'd once thought that the look on Rodney's face in that photograph meant something, was the beginning of something. It hadn't been until he'd saw that same face light up as he asked the spiky haired American pilot to think about where they were in the universe that he realised what a fool he'd been.

Seeing Rodney light up around John had been hard. Seeing John light up around Rodney was excruciating.

Rodney and John both coming to see him to make sure that they were both clean…that was the first night Carson had opened the Talisker.

He'd considered returning to Earth when they re-established contact, but in the end, the thought of not being there to save Rodney when the next mission went wrong had chilled him so coldly that he stayed.

“Carson,” Elizabeth's voice had been gentle and kind, “you know that he won't ever - -“

“He's my friend,” Carson had cut her off. “No matter what else I might…he's my friend.”

If that was all Rodney was offering, then Carson would gladly accept it. If that meant that he occasionally drowned his feelings in the good whisky, well he'd take it.

Carson pushed himself up off his chair and pulled himself straight. He unhooked the white coat from its hanging place and put it on, pulling on the armour that let him show his worry for Rodney under the guise of professionalism. He pushed open the door to his office and stepped out as Dr Beckett.

“Hey,” John's sleep tousled head snapped to attention as soon as Carson drew the curtain around Rodney's bed. “How's he doing, Doc?”

Carson tore his eyes away from where John's hand was still entwined in Rodney's own and smiled, even if it didn't quite reach his eyes. John didn't notice, not that Carson could blame him. If it were him sat there, he'd only have eyes for Rodney too.

Casting a look over Rodney's chart, Carson felt the familiar relief settle over him. “He’ll be fine, Colonel. A little light PT and you'll never even know he was injured.”

John's head fell as he dropped a relieved kiss on Rodney's hand. He grinned brightly at Carson when he looked up.

“What would we do without you, Doc? I owe you so many favours, just name it.”

“Just,” Carson cleared his throat. “Just take better care of him. Ok?”

John nodded, missing the thickness of Carson's voice and the shaking of his hands, his eyes already back at Rodney.

“You bet ya.”

Carson hung the chart back on the bed and stepped out from the curtain, closing it around them. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started his final rounds before calling it a night and starting all over again tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> This fills the unrequited pining of my h/c bingo card AND the unrequited love/pining square of my trope bingo card!


End file.
